


Simply Suggestible

by AsadMinQamar



Category: Historical RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsadMinQamar/pseuds/AsadMinQamar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chopin's piano is out of tune and George is feeling snarky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simply Suggestible

**Author's Note:**

> A Pleyel was an old piano manufacturer. Traditionally, Chopin played a Pleyel and Liszt preferred Erard. Just one of those random facts.

January 1839 - Majorca

Frédéric knows from last year that winter on the island is a tremendous mess. Rain one day, sleet another, and then the piano falls sickeningly out of tune because of the humidity and he can’t bear to even look at the damned thing when that happens. He avoids the music room all together, opting to walk the long way around the parlor because he doesn’t want to catch the smallest glimpse of the Pleyel, his beloved piano, the traitor.

That isn’t to say Majorca isn’t beautiful, it’s marvelous. But he doesn’t have any need for that kind of beauty. He searches for a different sort of inspiration.

He finds George in the sitting room, cup of tea in one hand and an open book in the other and he’s gotten so used to seeing her in proper women’s clothing that he scarcely remembers ever having seen her in trousers.

In any case, George barely notices him when he enters, which works out just fine for him on most occasions, but his piano needs tuning and although he could do it himself quite easily, the pitches never seem to stick for him.

“George, my dear,” Frederic greets her with a small nod of his head and she glances up at him over the top of her book. “Could you write a letter to the studio for me? The piano has gone a bit... sour. Again.”

“I was under the impression that you are a pianist, Frédéric, I thought wrong. I suppose,” she replies, gaze falling back down to her book and she turns the page slowly. “Perhaps you could find a different diversion for the time being.”

Something about the way she speaks makes the pianist’s skin prickle, she does little to hide the suggestiveness in her voice. Frédéric feels he should be used to this sort of thing, they are lovers after all, but George is different in every way from any woman he’s ever known.

It isn’t always a good sort of different.

“Perhaps I will just take to bed for a bit,” Frédéric says, already moving towards the door. “I haven’t slept well recently.”

George actually puts her book down and smiles widely and for a moment, she looks like she’s ready to leap across the room and devour him.

“You go do that, dear.”


End file.
